


That Ends Well

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, porn with some feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Arthur and Gwaine, both hopelessly in unrequited (oris it?) love with Merlin, use each other to get off.





	That Ends Well

**Author's Note:**

> so i never got around to "de-anoning" this until now because reasons. keeping myself anon because it makes me blush that i wrote this
> 
> this is for a prompt at [Kinks Of Camelot](https://kinksofcamelot.livejournal.com)! check the meme out!

“Asking if I'm sure I want this is one thing, but doing it when I already have my hand down your pants is just so _you_ —”  
  
“Gwaine—”  
  
“Princess—” Gwaine decides kissing Arthur is a better way of shutting him up than telling him to, so he does just that.  
  
Arthur shuts up, biting Gwaine’s lip softly. He breaks away and gazes at Gwaine with a furrowed brow. Comes back in for seconds, and Gwaine lets Arthur’s tongue swipe over his lips, into his mouth, feels the rush of sparks when their tongues brush against each other.  
  
Gwaine smiles into the kiss fondly, nipping at Arthur’s mouth, and tightens his grasp on Arthur’s cock just a smidgen. Arthur’s head falls back with a sigh as he arches into Gwaine, clutching at Gwaine’s shoulders. His golden hair glimmers silver in the moonlight falling upon them through the high windows.  
  
“Look at you,” Gwaine says, admiringly. “ _King_ Arthur giving the wanton whores of Camelot a run for their money.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Arthur says weakly, sitting down (collapsing) close to the edge of his seat, not taking his eyes off Gwaine for a second. “ _Please_.”  
  
Gwaine just smirks. “So delightfully naughty,” he croons, getting to his knees and reaching for the welcome heat at Arthur’s groin again. “It’d be perfect if Merlin came in here just now, if he saw you like this, begging to be touched.”  
  
Arthur shivers and shuts his eyes, undoubtedly imagining the scene. Gwaine leans forward to rest his chin on Arthur’s knee, sliding his other hand up the back of Arthur’s other calf. Arthur whimpers, abandoning all his royal dignity, and fuck, if Gwaine weren’t already in love with Merlin, the king would—oh, fuck, Arthur just wrapped his legs around Gwaine and squeezed for a second and Gwaine's pace stutters and oh, God.  
  
Said king and his knight are alone in the throne room and have no other intent but to defile the royal seat. Well, Gwaine’s intent is to see Arthur helplessly twisting under him, his fingers, his mouth, but it’s Arthur whose purposes matter here. It’s always Arthur who matters, who won’t say a thing until Gwaine chips away at his self-control—“Can’t wait to fuck you on your priggish throne, Arthur, better be there after dinner tonight”—and who then observes Gwaine with such uninhibited lust that _Gwaine’s_ knees go weak. Gwaine's!  
  
Arthur spreads his legs and Gwaine snatches the opportunity to get closer, shuffling between them so Arthur's thighs trap him, looking wickedly up at Arthur’s blushing, alluring face. Arthur looks hopelessly wild, clenching his fists and seemingly restraining himself from touching Gwaine’s face—well, Gwaine’s not letting _that_ go on any longer.  
  
“Permission to use my mouth, sire?”  
  
“Oh, _God_ ,” Arthur moans, and that’s all the permission Gwaine needs, as he inches close and blows softly over Arthur’s gorgeous, thick, red cock. Arthur’s hands fly to Gwaine’s hair, pushing him down reluctantly, as if Arthur couldn't bear it if he forced Gwaine for anything. Arthur and his gentlemanliness would be Gwaine's undoing one day.  
  
Gwaine's never been one to keep people waiting—he acquiesces, letting Arthur go deep into his mouth, tongue laving wherever it could go.

Gwaine has given blowjobs before. Gwaine’s had more than ten bedfellows. Gwaine’s had two people in him at once—he's been worshipped like a deity, for fuck's sake—he's done things that would scandalise the most experienced of streetwalkers. Nothing prepares him for the rapture of simply hearing his king breathe curses into the still air around them, clenching Gwaine’s hair, gently pulling on it, caressing his jaw, pressing a thumb against the wet lips kissing the soft skin of his cock.  
  
Gwaine hums lightly. Arthur sighs in response.  
  
“Merlin,” he moans. “God, Merlin.”  
  
“Merlin,” Gwaine agrees around Arthur’s cock. His knees hurt a little, but he doesn’t mind.  
  
Neither of them has ever _told_ Merlin what they hold for him in their hearts. Neither ever will, probably, Arthur because he’s the most abstinent idiot Gwaine’s ever seen, and Gwaine because _maybe_ , if he squints really hard, he kind of loves Arthur too.  
  
Gwaine had had more plans for Arthur, but Merlin’s name unfailingly (every goddamn time) makes Arthur completely lose it, and before Gwaine knows it, his mouth is filled with the salty tang of Arthur’s come as Arthur inevitably groans Merlin's name one last time.  
  
Gwaine swallows it all down, finally getting a hold of himself. Arthur’s foot nudges his hand and Gwaine muffles a startled gasp, bucking up into the touch as Arthur presses down lazily.  
  
“Go on,” Arthur commands. He knows. Of course the both of them know about each other, it's how this all started in the first place, catching each other staring dazedly at a scrawny, useless manservant who did nothing but laugh all day and shirk his job.  
  
Gwaine gladly closes his eyes and lets the thoughts of dark hair, bright smiles, and a red neckerchief bring him to completion. So very complicated, love.  
  
When he comes to, Arthur is staring at him, gaze gentle, smile hidden behind an impassive mouth. His nightshirt is appealingly rucked up as he reclines on his throne, regal even like this. Gwaine could probably watch Arthur all night, revelling in the sight of Arthur so relaxed and comfortable and _open_.  
  
“Come sit astride me,” Arthur whispers. Gwaine gets to his feet. Arthur probably wants to kiss him and taste himself in Gwaine’s mouth, thanking him via that small act. If Gwaine’s lucky, Arthur wants to suck him off, too. Going by the mischievous gleam forming in Arthur’s eyes, he does. Gwaine grins at Arthur, settling in for a long, mouth-wateringly hot night.  
  
Loud footsteps echo outside the throne room—Gwaine whips around, the corridor should have been abandoned at this time of night!—as the entryway occupies itself with—  
  
“I heard you calling my name in here,” Merlin says breathlessly, as if he'd been running. “You didn’t come to your chambers tonight, Arthur, so I was searching for you.”  
  
Arthur is speechless, frozen, all too visible in his state of undress. Gwaine himself is no better. Both of them stare mutely at Merlin.  
  
“What were you—” Merlin pauses and takes in the scene in front of him. “Oh.”  
  
Arthur purses his lips, ready to be humiliated. Gwaine inhales sharply, wishing he could have blocked them both from view earlier, or just fucking closed the door! The ugly thought that Merlin might never look at him again crawls over his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Gwaine hangs his head and shares a rueful look with Arthur.  
  
“Oh,” Merlin repeats.  
  
He licks his lips and swallows visibly.  
  
"You were saying my name?" he asks. "Both... of you?"  
  
Arthur and Gwaine leave him unanswered, but Merlin looks like doesn't need the answer at all.  
  
He takes a step forward, and closes the door behind him, barring it.

**Author's Note:**

> i would love any and all feedback :) arthur/gwaine is so rare :')


End file.
